


i've got no soul to sell

by sandpapersnowman



Category: The Hitcher (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bad People Bein Nasty With Each Other, Breathplay, Dark Character, M/M, Serial Killers, Threats, lowkey tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 20:56:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: Jim smiles at him and silently thanks God for perverts.





	i've got no soul to sell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skazka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/gifts).
  * Inspired by [ready-made](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456437) by [skazka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/pseuds/skazka). 



> followup gift thing for [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456437) because its Good
> 
> title from nine inch nails' [Closer](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/nineinchnails/closer.html) because Taylor is already gonna kill me so I may as well make the most of it

Jim smiles at him and silently thanks God for perverts.

The man is eager, heart pounding hard enough Jim can feel it under his skin while he manhandles Jim into the back seat.

He makes it easy enough when he undoes Jim's belt, and all Jim has to do is pull it free. His jeans get pulled down to his knees, but he's been more exposed to people who wound up dead anyway.

He's still smiling up at the man when he loops his belt around his neck and pulls the end taut. There's a metallic sound in the same moment, and something cold and sharp presses into his stomach.

... _Well_.

The man, previously distracted sneaking a blade out of his pocket, realizes where they've ended up, and the smile on his face changes too.

"Well," he says for both of them. The proper emotion for this situation should be fear, or at the very least, caution, but they both just look _smug_. "Didn't your mother ever tell you to never pick up hitchhikers?"

Jim's grinning with his teeth now; some base, animal thing in his head is telling him to show them because it should scare off predators, but something else tells him to show them so the man will think about Jim's teeth in his neck and hopefully he'll _like it_.

"Yeah," Jim agrees. "You never know who you might meet on an empty highway," he says, tone laced with innocence.

The man licks his lips.

"What's your name, kid?"

Jim twists the end of his belt in his fist, just enough to remind the man of their position.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Jim says. They're both still smiling, and the energy in the car has changed -- if someone drove past the parked car, they wouldn't see the mutual threats or the interest in their eyes. Jim has a distinct advantage should this risk not pay off and both were to get out alive.

The man leans closer to Jim's face, allowing the belt to tighten as he hovers, as if to say _I'm game_.

"You can know my name. Then we won't be strangers."

His voice is strained from the belt digging into his throat -- his face is red, too, and his mouth hangs open because he's not getting enough air.

"Yeah?" Jim asks. "What's your name?"

"John Ryder," he answers, without hesitation. He -- John -- slides the switchblade so it's laid flat along his skin rather than jamming the point against him. 

It feels like one half of a truce.

John licks his lips again. Jim's considering it.

Jim slowly relaxes his arm and allows John Ryder to breathe again. 

That's another quarter of a truce.

"Sit up," Jim says instead of a name. Not yet.

John Ryder looks... Not confused, really, but... Patient? He sits up carefully, only going as far as Jim's leash allows at once. He lets Jim maneuver him back so Jim can crawl over him and settle over his lap, and, to Jim's credit, he keeps his stomach pressed to John's knife as they move.

Jim smiles.

Rather than asking if John is comfortable (probably, Jim is light and the man _is_ still a pervert) or if he trusts him (he certainly shouldn't, it'd make him a pervert _and_ an idiot), he sinks his weight down onto him and re-tightens the belt around his neck.

"Jim Halsey."

**Author's Note:**

> I am also trash on [tumblr](http://www.sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com)! hope you enjoyed the fic skazka, god bless you for that fic and I hope this doesn't clash too much with yours :')


End file.
